


A Safe Place

by The_neigh_sayer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22898170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_neigh_sayer/pseuds/The_neigh_sayer
Summary: John and Abigail decide to leave the gang in search of a better life for Jack.
Relationships: John Marston/Abigail Roberts
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

John jerked awake, sitting bolt upright on his mattress on the floor, drenched in sweat. Yet another nightmare. He’d had them frequently since Jack was kidnapped. Even though he was back now, safe and sound, it still plagued him. Guilt, he figured, over letting him get taken in the first place. 

It was a blessing in disguise because it had opened his eyes to his behavior. To how he treated Abigail & Jack. And to just how important they were to his life. 

He wanted this to be a new chapter in their lives—to start anew. But he didn’t feel like they could really do that here living with the gang. Plus, as he & Abigail had discussed, gang life isn’t the best place for a boy to grow up. Especially after Dutch killed Angelo Bronte. He’d been acting erratic lately, going against everything they used to fight against.

So, he’d been thinking about it, and he’d decided they’d leave. Abigail, Jack, & John. He’d mentioned it to Abigail and she agreed it was a good idea, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He wanted to talk to someone else about it. He knew Dutch would never let them leave, so there was no way he could bring it up to him. Hosea? Maybe. But he’d probably tell Dutch anyway. That left one person, the only other person he knew well enough & long enough to trust: Arthur. 

He pulled him aside the next day, asking if he would take a ride with him. Arthur raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but agreed to go.

They rode out, sticking to horse paths for privacy. John slowed to a walk and Arthur followed suit, watching him with curiosity. Impatiently he said, “Look, Marston, are ya gonna tell me what we’re doin’ out here, or what?” Finally John told him how he and Abigail have decided it would be best for Jack & their family if they left the gang. He told him about his nightmares and everything. He wasn’t sure how Arthur would respond; he mostly expected him to tell him he was crazy and there was no way he could leave the gang. So he was surprised when Arthur said, “You should go.”

John looked at him. “What? Really?”

Arthur nodded, watching the road ahead. “Yes. You’re right, the gang is no place to raise a kid. Plus, between you and me, this feels like it’s nearing an end, with the Pinkertons after us and everything?” He looked at John earnestly. “I mean it, John. You, Abigail, and Jack should pack up and get out, while you still can.” 

“Okay, so, maybe we’ll leave in the morning.”

Arthur said, “Do it. Dutch and Hosea are talking about robbing the state bank in St Denis. Maybe it’ll go okay, maybe it won’t. If it was to not go well for you, I’d feel guilty as hell. So yeah, get out now. I’ll cover for you with Dutch and Hosea.”

John looked at his brother, grateful to have him. “Thank you, it means a lot to me. To us.”

Arthur nodded at him, and they turned and headed back to Shady Belle, both lost in their thoughts. 

That night John & Abigail said goodbye to everyone without actually saying goodbye. A few people were suspicious, like the girls and Hosea, and others didn’t really notice anything, like Uncle. Hosea was watching them both all night, and finally he pulled John off to the side and asked what was going on. John tried to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about, but Hosea wasn’t having any of it. 

“John, you and Abigail are talking to everyone like you’re never going to see them again. Tell me what is going on.” 

John sighed, eyes darting around. “Okay.” He said, in a low tone. “Abigail and I feel it best for Jack if we...leave. The gang. Start a new life somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

Hosea just looked at him. 

John continued. “We’re planning on leaving in the morning.”

“Oh. Who knows about this?”

“Just Arthur. And you, now.”

“Dutch doesn’t know?”

John looked down. “No. I-we-don’t feel he’d understand. We don’t think he’d let us leave. We just want to do what’s best for Jack, Hosea.”

Hosea nodded. “I understand. I’ll handle him. I’m glad you’re finally taking my advice. It would be best for Jack. You all go. You have my blessing.” He placed a hand on John’s shoulder, and it was like a weight came off him. He clasped Hosea in a quick hug and said, “thank you.” Then he disappeared into the house. Hosea caught sight of Arthur standing near the scout fire, watching. He nodded. Arthur nodded back.

Arthur slept lightly that night, wanting to be awake to say goodbye to John, Abigail, & Jack. He was awakened while it was still dark out to see John standing by his bed, whispering his name. “Arthur, we’re leaving. Thought you’d like to know.” 

Arthur sat up groggily, shaking the sleep out of his head. “Yeah. You’re off, then?”

John nodded. “Yeah, getting out while everyone’s still asleep.”

Arthur stood and they went out into the hall, each grabbing a suitcase. They crept downstairs, slowly and quietly, with Abigail carrying a sleeping Jack in front of them. 

They walked quietly out to the horses, taking a couple of the extra camp horses as a pack horse and for Abigail & Jack to ride. After they’d stowed their bags, John turned to Arthur, clasping his hand in both of his. “Thank you, brother. Hey, maybe you should come with us.”

Arthur chuckled. “And do what? This is all I know. I’m all alone, I don’t have a family to take care of like you do. Just go, I’ll be fine.”

Arthur clapped John on the shoulder as he turned to mount his horse. He walked over to Abigail, rubbing Jack on his back, then taking her hand. “Abigail, you be good now. Take real good care of that boy.” 

She smiled, a tear in her eye, and hugged Jack to her. “I will, Arthur.”

He turned back to John. “Listen, I set up a box at the post office under the name Lawrence Killpenny. That’s how you can reach me. Don’t send anything to Tacitus Kilgore. When you get where you’re going, send me a letter, let me know you’re safe. Please.” 

John nodded. “Got it. Take care of yourself, Arthur.” 

“You do the same. Take care of your family.”

Arthur backed up, and they trotted out of sight. 

As he turned back to the house, he caught sight of the burning tip of a cigarette on the top balcony.


	2. Chapter 2

They rode to the train station and bought tickets out west. They wandered a lot over the next few months, settling down here and there, taking odd jobs wherever possible. John tried to be an upstanding, law abiding citizen when all he knew to be was the exact opposite. It was difficult, to say the least. 

He’d sent some letters to Arthur and received a couple back, but it had been a while since he’d gotten one. The last one said they were doing the big bank in St Denis and while no one thought it to be a good idea, Dutch wouldn’t listen. And he’d mentioned the night they left he saw Dutch smoking on the balcony but never said anything to Arthur about it. Just gave him the cold shoulder and started treating him like garbage. He could see the gang ripping apart, and he was thinking after this job he may just leave, too. John hoped so. 

John was in a local town, looking for work, when he heard the newspaper kid yelling out the headlines—something about a bank robbery. He didn’t pay much attention until the name Van Der Linde caught his attention. He bought a paper and stopped right there to read the article. It said that the Van Der Linde gang had tried to rob the bank in St Denis, but thanks to an anonymous tip they had been interrupted; several police and gang members were killed in the shootout, including Van Der Linde himself, Hosea Matthews, Micah Bell, and a couple of bodies burned beyond recognition by dynamite, one believed to be Arthur Morgan. John felt the air leave his lungs, his skin went cold, and there was a roaring in his ears. He couldn’t believe it. He reread that line: Dutch, Hosea, Arthur. Gone. 

Mindlessly, he mounted his horse and rode home, not remembering anything about the ride. Abigail greeted him at the door of the little shack they were staying in, and she instantly knew something was wrong. He sat at the table and told her about the article, his head in his hands. “I just can’t believe it, Abby. All of them—just gone. And what if we’d stayed? I’d be dead, too.” She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around him, trying to ease his fears and grief.

He tried to move on and put it out of his mind. He tried to keep himself busy with work, but he struggled with it. He reread the article several times, clinging to the fact that the story said one body was unidentifiable and only believed to be Arthur. Maybe it actually wasn’t?

They finally settled down at a homestead called Beecher’s Hope, building a little house and barn in the hopes of farming it. John was now making decent money bounty hunting, of all things. 

He had sent a couple more letters to Arthur, still holding out hope that he was out there alive, somewhere. Though he never received any responses. He sent one last one to tell him about Beecher’s Hope, how it looked like they’d finally settled down for good on their own little piece of land. 

Time stretched on—days turned to weeks; weeks turned to months. John eventually stopped writing to Arthur. He’d finally come to terms that he was gone for good. He wondered often about everyone else: Charles, Sadie, Lenny, the girls. What became of them all? 

Late one afternoon, over a year after leaving the gang, he was mucking out the barn when he heard Abigail yell his name from the house. He exited the double doors and saw her standing on the porch, pointing toward a figure on a horse coming toward the house. The sun was setting behind him and he couldn’t make out who it was. He walked closer and when it dawned on him who it was, he couldn’t believe it. He jogged toward him, mouth agape, heart pounding. He came to a stop and stood there, unable to believe his eyes, as the man dismounted and turned to John, holding out a hand to shake. 

“Hey, brother.” Arthur said with a smile.


End file.
